


Honey and Whiskey

by Pigeon



Category: EastEnders
Genre: Child Abuse, Consent Issues, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:19:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigeon/pseuds/Pigeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dennis and Dalton and Andy back in the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey and Whiskey

1.

"Here."

"What is it?"

"Just drink it, would you."

  
2.

"Again?"

Eyebrow raised. Breath inhaled. Held. Implied- _What of it?_

"When's the last time you slept?"

"What is it to you?"

"Nothing."

  
3.

It isn't like Dalton's touch is anything like _theirs_.

It isn't like he's held down.

It isn't like there are threats, veiled or otherwise.

It isn't like he wants this.

  
4.

Sweet with a bitter/strong aftertaste.

"My mum gave my this when I couldn't sleep."

Dennis looks up.

"Swore by it."

  
5.

Andy goes home to his wife.

Dalton's house is always open to those few he trusts. That inner circle.

Dennis is the only one who actually lives there.

  
6.

"Fuck you. Fucking nonce. You been touching my boy..."

"Mum..."

Dalton doesn't rise from his seat. "Mrs. Rickman, I assure you I've been like nothing but a father to the boy." He gives a slight smile and pulls open a drawer, taking out a wad of bright fifty-pound notes. "But I would like to compensate you for your inconvenience."

  
7.

The boy, Dennis, is crouched before the fire, half-empty vodka bottle by his side.

"You trying to kill your liver?" He sits opposite.

"What do you want?"

"That won't help. You think Jack will take it easy on you when you wake up with a hangover tomorrow?"

"Maybe I don't care."

  
8.

A slow touch. Fingertips brushing against jaw. Curving upwards. Cheekbone. Ear. Down to neck. Curling around nape.

"What makes you think you're any better?"

"The fact that you're willing to hit me and run off." Thumb running over collarbone. Leaning close, breath mingling, fraction from a kiss. "No mistake. You do this willingly."

Shudder. Tremors and soft half-gasps. "So?"

"So, I think that's a new experience for you."

  
9.

He smirks and smiles and raises eyebrows.

Dennis stands close to Dalton.

Andy waits.

  
10.

He wakes in the night. Dalton's arm is tight about his waist. He feels hot and sweaty and sticky.

If he goes downstairs Andy will be there.

If he goes downstairs Andy will make him honey and whiskey.

If he goes...

If he goes Andy might kiss him and give him an idea of how it might be.

  
11.

In the boxing ring.

Marquis of Queensbury and all that.

Shorts and bare-chested. Gloves and head-guard.

Dalton expects him to win.

Andy just likes to watch.

  
12.

Breath short, panting, lungs fit to burst.

Recollection of hands pinning wrists and hips, lips on lips, sharp blows across the face.

Kids in the other beds; listening; pretending to sleep.

And he isn't there anymore. And he's never going back. And Dalton lies next to him. And the past is exactly that, the past.

  
13.

He stands in the centre of the room.

Dalton's behind the desk.

Andy's by the door.

He stands between them, their eyes on him, and wonders how this will end.


End file.
